by Connie Mason
“Ye can have yer pick tonight,” the innkeeper said. “Not much business in this weather.”
“A room for my granddaughter and another for myself,” Pietro said.
“Aye, I’ll send a lad up to lay a fire so yer rooms will be warm for ye and yer granddaughter. Will ye be wanting a meal?”
“Aye, something hot and filling. We’ll take it down here before the fire. We’ll have warmed mulled wine while we’re waiting.”
Pietro joined Lara while the innkeeper barked orders to his help.
“We’ll have a hot meal soon, little one,” Pietro said. “You look exhausted.”
“I’m not very hungry, Grandfather. I’d rather go right up to bed.”
“Ramona wouldn’t forgive me if I let you go off to bed without your meal. You’re eating for two now. Besides, the fires are being laid in our rooms as we speak and it will be a while before the chill leaves.”
Lara didn’t relish undressing in an icy cold room so she bided her time, drinking her mulled wine while their meal was being prepared. Once their meal arrived, it looked so appetizing that Lara dug in with surprising gusto. She was hungry, she realized as she chewed and swallowed a savory morsel of meat pie and washed it down with wine. She topped off the meal with an apple tart loaded with cinnamon and raisins, then sat back and sighed, her hunger appeased.
Pietro grinned at her. “I thought you weren’t hungry?”
“I thought the same thing, but the smell of the food restored my appetite. Do you think our rooms are warm now?”
“Go on up, granddaughter. I’m going to sit here by the fire a while longer and finish my wine. Your room is up the stairs, the first door on the right. My room is the one beyond yours. Leave the door unlocked, I’ll look in on you before I retire.”
Lara kissed his cheek. “Good night, Grandfather.”
Julian cursed the weather and the rotten luck that was keeping him from Lara. He had fully intended to reach the Gypsy camp tonight, but weather and fate had conspired against him. Pelted by the relentless fury of stinging snow, he could barely see the road for the drifts. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he feared there was no way he could go on tonight without risking limb and life.
Julian had traveled this road often enough to know that the Three Feathers Inn loomed somewhere ahead. He recalled the night he and Lara had stayed there and couldn’t stop the smile that curved his lips. It seemed so long ago; so much had happened since then.
Julian’s toes and fingers had gone numb by the time he spied the lights from the Three Feathers blinking in the distance. If not for the lights he would have passed it by and never known it was there, that’s how thickly the snow was falling.
Julian turned into the yard and guided his horse to the stables behind the inn. No one was about so he tended his own horse, noting as he worked that only two other horses were stabled within.
Julian entered the inn and shook the snow off his cape. After greeting the innkeeper, he made directly for the roaring fire in the common room. He held out his hands to the flames and pushed back his hood. A movement from the corner of the room caught his attention and he turned slightly. He nearly lost the ability to speak when he saw Pietro. The two men stared at each other for several moments before Julian found his voice.
“Pietro! What in bloody hell are you doing here on a night fit for neither man nor beast?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing, my lord.”
“I was on my way to your camp to claim my wife when bad weather forced me to seek a room for the night. How is Lara? She left me without a word of explanation.” His eyes glittered. “She and I are going to have words when I catch up with her.”
Pietro gave Julian a strange look. “This is incredible!”
Julian frowned. Had he missed something? “To what are you referring?” Then a terrible thought occurred to him and he asked anxiously, “Lara is at your camp, isn’t she?”
“As a matter of fact, she isn’t,” Pietro replied.
A jolt of sheer panic kicked Julian in the gut. “What? Where could she have gone? My God, man, my wife is missing! I didn’t worry excessively about her, believing she was with you and Ramona. Now I don’t know what to think.”
He began to pace.
Pietro must have taken pity on him for he said, “I know where you can find Lara.”
Julian whirled, his face taut with anxiety. “Out with it, man! Where is my wife?”
“Upstairs, first door on the right. The door isn’t locked.”
Words failed Julian. His mouth worked noiselessly until the words began to flow. “Lara is here? In this weather? Is she mad?”
“Mad with love for you, I suspect,” Pietro said with a chuckle. “Ramona must have known you and Lara would meet like this, else she wouldn’t have let Lara start out in this weather. My wife is a wise woman.”
“Granted,” Julian allowed, “but Lara shouldn’t be traveling in this weather. Where is she going that she couldn’t wait until the weather clears?”
“Surely you know the answer to that question,” Pietro chided. “Lara was coming to you in London. She fretted endlessly and regretted leaving you before you had fully recovered. She feared you’d had a relapse. The weather interfered with our journey and we were forced to seek shelter.” He chuckled. “Fate has a strange way of bringing people together.”
“Fate or love,” Julian muttered beneath his breath.
“Go to your wife, Julian. I’ll explain to the innkeeper and arrange everything.”
“Aye,” Julian muttered hoarsely as he started up the stairs.
Julian found Lara’s room and turned the knob. The door opened noiselessly and he slipped inside. The glow from a single candle sitting on the nightstand emitted enough light for Julian to make out Lara’s form beneath the covers. She appeared to be sleeping soundly. He closed the door behind him and approached the bed. Bending close, he kissed her smooth forehead. She sighed but didn’t awaken. Julian’s love expanded as he stared at her. She looked innocent and waiflike in sleep, as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
Julian wanted to devote the rest of his life to making Lara happy, keeping her safe, giving her children, and loving her forever. But experience had shown him that nothing valuable was easily obtained.
Waking Lara seemed such a shame, Julian decided as he watched her sleep. But leaving her wasn’t an option, and the bed looked too inviting to resist. A smile stretched his lips as he began to undress.
Lara’s dream seemed so real. She could almost feel Julian’s arms around her, smell the pine forest on his hair and skin, as if he’d just come inside from the cold, frost-scented air. She sighed and cuddled closer, surrounding his cool body with her warmth.
Why was his skin so chilled?
Lara opened her eyes, stunned to discover that she wasn’t dreaming. A flesh-and-blood Julian was in bed with her. She stiffened and whispered his name.
“Julian. You’ve come.”
“Did you doubt it? I would have been here sooner had the weather cooperated.”
Her hands flattened against his chest. “You’re so cold.”
“ ’Twas a damn cold ride. Are you happy to see me?”
A weighted pause. “That depends. Why are you here? Did you file for divorce as I suggested?”
“Is that what you really want? Talk to me, love. Why did you leave London without consulting me? Did your ordeal unsettle your mind?”
“My mind is perfectly clear. ’Tis your mind I question. Or, rather, your feelings for me.”
“What will it take to convince you that we belong together? I do love you, you know.”
A huge sigh. “I … wasn’t sure.”
“Then let me convince you.”
He raised up on his elbow. A beam of moonlight revealed the taut planes of his face, stark and intense in his need. She closed her eyes and waited for his kiss. His lips touched hers, and a surge of pleasure coursed through her, as sweet and heady as fine wine. His
kisses were gentle at first, nibbling her mouth with a feather-light touch, but they didn’t remain that way for long.
He licked the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue, then drew on them with increasing passion, until she grew limp and boneless. Then his kiss became a deep, soul-searing invasion into her very soul, and she wanted to melt into him, to absorb him into her core. He angled his lips sideways against hers and tilted her chin, prodding her mouth open. She eagerly obliged. He stroked the sleek lining of her cheeks, playing wickedly with her tongue. Warmth and wetness flooded her body.
She moved her hands around his torso and up his back, stopping briefly to explore the fresh scar that had barely healed over. He lifted his head and stared down at her. She felt his hot breath fan her flushed cheeks and swollen lips.
“Do you truly love me, Julian?” she whispered. “You’re not here because your honor demanded it, are you?”
“I’m here because you’re my wife and I love you,” Julian declared.
“You love me? What about Diana?”
“Diana is dead,” Julian said flatly. “Diana is my past; you are my future.”
“But in the warehouse you said—”
“I have no idea what I said, only what I meant to say. Obviously you misunderstood my words and came to a false conclusion. What did you hear me say?”
Lara thought back to that day Julian had burst into the warehouse to rescue her and was shot by the Jackal. His words were still fresh in her mind.
“You said you were sorry about our marriage. That you were a fool to think it would last, and that you couldn’t forget Diana. Then you said,” she nearly choked over the words, “what you felt for me wasn’t love.”
Julian’s brow furrowed. “I remember wanting to tell you how I felt about you … about us … but I don’t recall saying those words. What I wanted to say is that I was sorry for not accepting our marriage from the beginning, that I was a fool to think I’d never find love, that you showed me the error of my ways. What I felt for you then and now is the kind of love that will last forever.”
“Oh, Julian,” Lara cried happily. “I love you so very much.”
“Forgive me. I should have come to my senses and told you long before now how much I love you.”
“I needed to know that, Julian. I had to hear the words from you. I … I’m very fragile now.”
“My wild Gypsy wench fragile? Never! Forget everything but here and now. Today begins the rest of our lives together, and I want to start out right by making love to you.”
He kissed her again, and yet again. Her mouth, her nose, her chin. She trembled with pleasure. With an impatient motion he tugged at her nightdress. “Raise your arms. I want you naked.” Her arms flew up and he lifted the cloth over her head and off. “That’s much better.”
She felt his breath bathe her breasts, felt the rough pad of his tongue against her nipple. She sucked in a shuddering sigh when he opened his mouth over the crest, taking the velvety tip deep in his mouth. He moved smoothly to the other breast, nipping gently, then soothing it with his tongue. Lara whimpered, arching up into him, wanting more. Abruptly Julian raised his head and stared deeply into her eyes. His smile was wickedly sensual as he slid down her body.
Her chest rose and fell erratically when he pressed his mouth to the soft flesh of her inner thigh and slowly nibbled higher. His mouth closed over her mound. Her hips surged upward, her back bowed backward. She whimpered softly, tangling her fists in his hair, bringing him closer. He eagerly obliged, sweeping his tongue deep within the velvety folds, grazing the nubbin hidden within, stealing her ability to think coherently.
He sucked and probed greedily, giving no quarter as his tongue and mouth drove her ruthlessly toward release. Lightning raced along her nerve endings, blinding light exploded behind her eyelids. Her whole body was caught in a crescendo of building need, until the crisis soared and broke inside her. Her cry rose in a keening wail. Convulsions engulfed her, and all sensation centered in that tender place where his mouth was working its magic.
Her wits returned slowly. She opened her eyes. Julian was leaning over her, his hard body sleek with perspiration. She grinned up at him. “My turn,” she said, pushing him onto his back.
She felt him quivering, and carnal satisfaction made her feel omnipotent. The knowledge that this strong, powerful man trembled beneath her made her giddy with delight. Her ability to inspire his passion was more intoxicating than strong spirits.
A smile hovered on her lips as she scooted down his body. She heard him inhale sharply when she took his sex in her hands. She brought it to her mouth and placed a kiss on the thick tip. He made a sound, half agony, half pleasure, deep in his throat. She ran her tongue over the head. His fists twisted in her hair, his hands trembling against her temples. She could feel the tautly controlled passion building within him and reveled in it, savoring his salty essence, drawing him deeper … deeper …
She felt him stiffen. He gave a low, guttural roar, grabbed her about her waist, and hauled her upward. “No more. I need to be inside you.”
Lara heartily agreed as she undulated her hips against his thick staff. Hot liquid seeped from between her thighs. He caught her nipple between his teeth and she cried out, desperate now to reach that place known only to lovers.
He came into her in one long, smooth thrust. She wriggled slightly, taking him deeper. Then he began to move. The pace he set was hard and fierce. She tilted her hips and met his thrusts, needing, wanting everything he had to give, and more.
Suddenly he reversed their positions, placing her beneath him. Her hands fluttered from his shoulders, sweeping down his muscular back to his taut buttocks. She felt him stiffen and dug her fingers into the rounded mounds. He lifted her legs and wrapped them around his grinding hips. He surged forward; she tightened her legs.
“Come to me, my love, come to me now.”
His words inspired her, drove her up and over the crest as climax after climax shook her slender form, peaking and crushing like a tidal wave upon a storm-tossed shore, wild and tumultuous and exquisitely satisfying.
Julian covered her mouth with his, swallowing her cry of pleasure and shuddering as her hard spasms gripped him, intensifying in strength, squeezing his engorged staff until he could stand no more. He tensed and arched above her, potent, powerful, a sheen of sweat dampening his body. With a roar, he gave in to his wildness, his hips gyrating convulsively as he pushed hard and deep within her. He climaxed violently.
In the moment before he spilled his seed, Julian had the illogical thought that he and Lara were no longer two separate beings. A passion he’d never experienced with any other woman combined with a love he’d never envisioned made them one in body and soul.
When it was over Julian sank down on her, replete, drained of strength. Forcing himself to move, he rolled to one side, taking her with him, their bodies still tightly joined.
“I love you,” Julian whispered. “Don’t ever doubt me again.”
“I love you, too, Julian. I’m sorry for doubting you.”
“I’ll never say anything to hurt you again.”
“ ’Tis already forgotten and forgiven. Today marks the true beginning of our marriage.”
He nuzzled her neck. “I like the sound of that. I’m retiring from government service and intend to devote the rest of my life to you, our marriage, and our children, should God grant us sons or daughters.”
He felt her sudden stillness and wondered what he had said this time to upset her.
“Do you want children, Julian?”
A weighty pause. “At one time, after Diana’s death, I wanted neither a wife nor children. Sinjun’s son was to be my heir. Life is so tenuous. Diana’s death and the loss of the child I never knew nearly destroyed me. The knowledge that I was responsible for the death of a woman I cared about and a child I sired was so devastating that I swore never to marry or have children. Then you came along.”
“You haven’t answered m
y question. Do you want children?”
His arms tightened around her. “I want to give you children, Lara. As many as you want. Each one will be as dear to me as you are.”
He felt a shudder go through her and wondered if she feared the birthing process. “I won’t let anything hurt you, sweeting. If you fear childbirth, I won’t demand that you produce an heir for me. Sinjun’s son can still inherit.”
Her trembling sigh brushed his cheek. “There’s no need for you to name your brother’s son your heir. Oh, Julian, my love, I’m already carrying your son and heir.”
It took a few moments for Lara’s words to register. When they did, an indescribable joy roared through him. “You’re pregnant!”
“Aye, nearly four months gone.”
Julian shuddered, his heart pounding furiously when he realized how close he’d come to losing his wife and child. “You were pregnant when you were kidnapped!” he exclaimed. His voice shook with repressed emotion. “You went through that horrifying ordeal while you were carrying my child. My God, how did you survive? Why didn’t you tell me in Scotland that you were expecting?”
“I wanted to make sure before telling you. Besides, I wasn’t sure how you felt about having a child with me.”
Julian’s stare delved deep. “Why didn’t you tell me before you left London?”
“Don’t be angry, Julian. Ramona has already scolded me for my reticence. I wanted you to want me for myself.”
“What if I decided you weren’t worth coming after? What if I had started divorce proceedings? Would you have told me about my child?”
“Your son, Julian. Ramona said I’m carrying your heir.” She lowered her eyes. “Truthfully, I didn’t think that far ahead. I hoped, I prayed you’d come for me and I’d never have to make that decision.”
Julian heard little beyond Lara’s first sentence. “You’re carrying my heir? A son? Are you sure?”
Lara gave him an enigmatic smile. “Ramona is rarely wrong. But if by some remote chance she is, I’m sure at least one of our children will be a boy.”